Ebb and Flow
by Cassie Valentine
Summary: The guilt that surrounded them ebbed and flowed, much like the ocean that surrounded the city. An angsty little post Sunday piece.


Written for speckleberry for the 2010 Sparky Santa.

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Elizabeth disappeared after making a suitable appearance at the wake, which had been delayed until those who had escorted the body back to Earth could attend.

John would have gone after her, but he was too busy keeping an eye on Rodney and the amount of booze he was putting away.

Eventually he got Rodney back to his quarters and tucked into bed, leaving a handful of painkillers and a glass of water on his bedside table. John then finally took off in search of Elizabeth.

He didn't bother looking in her office or her quarters, knowing that she would head somewhere isolated so she could do her mourn and wallow in guilt without being disturbed.

John briefly considered using the sensors to find her, but changed his mind as he stood in a transporter and studied the map of Atlantis. After a long moment, he jabbed his finger at his intended destination and let the transporter do its work.

He stopped at his own quarters to grab some supplies before heading off to his final destination: Elizabeth. He and his team had found a balcony one day while mapping the city.

Finding a balcony wasn't all that special, but there was just something about this one. It was far smaller than the others they had come across, and the entrance was hidden in the shadows. If you weren't specifically looking for it, you'd miss it. He quickly made his way there and ducked into the doorway, moving quietly along the short hall until he saw her.

She was leaning heavily on the railing; her head bowed as the moonlight cast a long shadow towards the doorway he was currently lurking in.

She jumped a little as he dropped a zippered jacket over her shoulders. "Cold out here tonight," he said as he moved to stand beside her. She pulled her arms into the sleeves of the jacket, frowning a little when she realized it was his and the arms were several inches too long for her. It was warm though, so she wasn't about to complain.

"I'm not really in the mood for company," she finally said, her eyes never leaving the water.

"Neither am I," he said as he cracked open a beer and held it out to her. His eyes were glued to the water as well.

After a long moment, he felt her hands close around the can and he moved to open one for himself. They stood quietly in the night. The only sounds to be heard were the ocean and the occasional sip from a can.

"Teyla wouldn't have been injured if I hadn't cancelled on her," she finally admitted. He didn't react except to take another drink.

"Why did you cancel?" he asked after a long while. She debated whether or not to tell him.

"Mike Branton asked me out to lunch and I decided to go," she finally said after a very long moment.

John wanted to tease her about going on a date, but he knew now wasn't the time, not when she was very obviously feeling guilty about it.

"Carson wouldn't be dead if I had gone fishing with him," John said, finally admitting some of his own guilt. "I stayed here and got my ass handed to me by Ronon instead."

A heavy silence fell over the pair again as they wallowed in their guilt. Somewhere in the distance, a wave crashed hard into one of the piers.

"I hate that I couldn't talk to his mother in person," she admitted as she drained her beer.

"I think she hated that too," he said, finishing his own before offering her another. He was a little surprised that she accepted it. He opened his and started drinking as he waited to hear the top of her can pop open. Only the sound never came. John finally turned away from the ocean to look at the woman next to him. To the untrained eye she looked fine, but he knew better.

They were subtle signs, but they were still there. Her suit was wrinkled in a way that suggested she had been restless and had been keeping herself busy. Her make up was a little heavy in an attempt to make it look like she hadn't been having sleepless nights over what had happened in the city.

"It's not your fault," he finally offered, unsure of what else to say. "You can only give the 'don't touch it if you don't know what it is' lecture so many times."

He had faint hopes that his quip would lighten the mood slightly, but he wasn't surprised when it fell flat. Instead, he heard the beer can in her hand crinkle as she squeezed it.

"Damnit!" she said angrily as she launched the can as hard as she could.

They both watched as it tumbled through the air before catching the side of a pier. The can exploded in a frothy mess before falling to the ocean with a slight splash. She leaned heavily on the railing again, dropping her head between her arms. John watched her for a moment before he put his beer down.

"Elizabeth," he said calmly, finally turning to look at her. "Elizabeth," he said again when she didn't turn. Slowly she stood and looked at him. They studied each other for a long moment before he suddenly pulled her into his arms and held on.

Shocked by his move, she didn't respond right away, but eventually he felt her hands snake their way around his back and hang on. They stood like that for ages, taking comfort in each other while the ocean continued to lap against the piers.

After what seemed like an eternity they let go and stepped back, a respectable distance appearing between them once again.

"I should go," she said after a long moment.

"Yeah, me too," he said. Neither of them made a move to leave the balcony.

"Maybe I can wait a while longer," she finally said, turning back to the ocean.

"Maybe we can," he agreed as he turned back as well, only this time he moved closer to her so that their shoulders were brushing each other.


End file.
